I Think I Really, Really Like You
by WellDoneNeville
Summary: Lavender: a beautiful girl with dirty-blonde, curly hair and a rather plump face; she had these eyes that could light up anyone they landed upon, and perhaps that was what he cherished most about her. / Based in a world tied between movie and book.


Cormac walked through the debris with his wand clutched tightly in his hand. He had seen Voldemort fall what felt like an hour ago, had seen the Death Eaters vanish without a word, and yet he was still carefully taking his steps; looking around the corners before he turned.

The battle of Hogwarts had left him battered and bruised, scars and scratches running down his skin, blood trickling down from his gashes. He had fought against countless Death Eaters, against an assortment of creatures that had served under the Dark Lord, against beasts that dare not live anywhere but in the darkest of nightmares.

And yet he still lived.

He couldn't comprehend it, really. How he was still alive. He was never the toughest or bravest person, in fact he was quite baffled at how he had been sorted into Gryffindor. He had never been very good at Defence Against the Dark Arts, either, or really any class. He was always too busy thinking about Quidditch. But here he was, alive and well, only with the mildest of scars.

Cormac peered around yet another corner, eyes narrowed and analysing the scene. Debris was scattered across the corridor, and sunlight was leaking through the gaps in the roof; there were corpses of strangers and friends all around him, and he felt his stomach lurch as a thought seeped into his mind.

What if Lavender was dead?

Lavender: a beautiful girl with dirty-blonde, curly hair and a rather plump face; she had these eyes that could light up anyone they landed upon, and perhaps that was what he cherished most about her. He had known her since she first started at Hogwarts; he could still remember seeing her blonde head bobbing up and down in the crowd of first-years, seeing her sit down on the stool infront of them all and gratefully accepted the Sorting Hat as Professor McGonagall placed it upon her head, listening as it yelled "Gryffindor!" and how he, along with his fellows, applauded her.

They had spoken again on several accounts, but it was only during the time where he repeated his seventh year did he realise that he had fallen for her. He had never told a soul about these feelings, and yet, in the year after, while he had been working hard to become a professional Qudditch player, his feelings for her had blossomed. He hadn't seen her for a whole year, and yet he had never felt more in love with her.

The Great Hall was filled to the brim with mourners. He could see Neville Longbottom sitting next to Luna Lovegood, a small smile in his lips as he spoke to her; he saw Ron Weasley and his family, all weeping for the loss of one of the twins; and, in a corner of the room, Parvati Patil and Professor Trelawney sat next to one another, a pale blonde-haired girl in between them.

He rushed forward quickly, paying no more attention to the people around him, jumping carefully over scattered debris and unconcious bodies. He skidded to a halt, eyes still fixed on her, and then straightened up.

Cormac was shocked at what he saw at first, shocked and angry. Lavender was scratched, scarred and bruised. There was a large gash across her throat, and scars across her cheeks and eyes. Blood was speckled across her pale skin, and the look that was etched upon her face made his heart ache.

"L-Lavender?" he spoke, his words trembling as he stepped forward and dropped to his knees.

She looked at him, but the eyes he starred into were alien. "Who.." she started, and then she squinted and looked taken aback. "Cormac."

"Lavender," Cormac said, his hand lifting itself and wrapping around one of hers. "I - what happened? Are you okay?"

Her eyes were glittering with unshed tears. "Grayback," she said simply, looking down at her feet. "Hermione saved me, though. If she hadn't shown up.. he would have.."

She sniffed, and Cormac's grip around her hand tightened by instinct. "It's okay," he said, "You're okay."

"No I'm not," she said, teary-eyed, "I'm hideous, just look at me! No-one will ever love me.."

"You're wrong!" he blurted out.

"I am?" Lavender said, tears leaking down from the corners of her cheeks. By the look on her face, Cormac could have sworn she looked almost hopeful.

"You're beautiful," he said, without realising what was happening. "And you always will be. And I.. I sort of.."

Lavender didn't speak, but she gazed at him with wide eyes.

"What I mean to say," he said, "Is that, I have kind of.. been thinking about you. A lot. And I think I really.. _really_.. like you."

And Lavender leapt forward, wrapping her arms around him. He reciprocated the motion, dropping the wand he held so tightly and gripping her waist so longingly. She pressed her mouth to his ear and whispered, her voice shaken with the sobs she was fighting to contain, "I think I really, really like you too."


End file.
